An Adventure
by Nara Shikamaru
Summary: Rating could go up, maybe. A collection of miniature adventures revolving around the Naruto cast. [ One: Gaara ]
1. One: Gaara

Don't own Naruto.  
  
This is just a little thing I'm half-interested in. I plan on doing it with other characters, and the 'adventures' will probably be unrelated. There may be spoilers, so be warned. No real plots, tons of spelling and grammatical errors: sue me. None will be continued, so if you for some reason want to continue one of these adventures I start, feel free to. I sure as hell won't care. ---  
  
Adventure is something that men thrive on. No matter how cynical or prude the man is, Adventure is one of the driving forces behind a man's will.  
  
The pursuit of strength, The pursuit of power, The pursuit of knowledge, And the pursuit of self-recognition.  
  
The test of limits, The test of will, The test of cunning, And the test of your own worth.  
  
These things drive men as much as greed, And as much as righteous fighting. The childish desire to go on an adventure Will be there in even the most cold of hearts.  
  
- Anonymous  
  
---  
  
He wished he had known why he left. Something had called to him, drawn him away from that village. They would probably be worried that he had gone missing. He didn't care too much for them, though. They'd probably send more assassins, with the excuse that this was an act of treason against the sand. He found himself anticipating it, and he noted that it was with a morbid pleasure.  
  
Sabaku no Gaara trudged along in the desert, heading towards the forests of Konoha with no real intent to be heading there. The winds were blazing fiercely, letting several sheets of sand spray in a rythmic motion, often blurring his vision. This, of course, made no difference to him. He knew which way he was going, and he had grown up in the desert.  
  
The sun, however, was another story. It was very hot, especially with the dark clothing he was wearing. Luckily, he had a few canteens of water, one on his right thigh, one hanging from the right wrist, and then one that hung from the strap that held his gourd on his body. It should be enough for someone like him.  
  
His thoughts travelled to Shukaku. That could have something to do with it. Shukaku recognized it in that blonde boy. The source of his vast power. The tanuki had been quiet since that day, and he had let Gaara go on in an eerily normal way. Sleep had been very tempting these past few days, but he wouldn't allow it; he wasn't going to lose himself. Even so, Gaara knew something was up. Shukaku probably wanted a real fight, and Gaara knew how to do that. Perhaps that was why he was heading towards Konoha's vast forests.  
  
Of course, he didn't know why he was heading for Konoha-- and he didn't care. Maybe his path would veer to the left. He was wandering with no real purpose, and he couldn't say he cared. A thought just occured to him: maybe he just wanted to get away for a while, take a small vacation of sorts. Of course, as a shinobi he couldn't very well have one. Not that this mattered to him, because no matter how many assassins were sent to him, they'd never succeed. Not with Shukaku, not with his mother.  
  
He closed his eyes, continuing to walk straightforward, as though at a pre-determined pace. Konoha was growing nearer. Some of their ANBU would probably try to kill him when he entered, because he didn't have a passport on him. The Chuunin exams wouldn't be an excuse this time; they'd think he was on a mission. Oh well, it wasn't his blood that'd be shed.  
  
Now with the forests in sight, a grim smirk crossed his face. His azure eyes snapped open, revealing what he already knew to be true: the sand was being eaten up by grass- real grass, the grass of the Fire country.  
  
As he stepped across the border of his own country, the Wind, a layer of sand suddenly shot up to his right, forming a concave shield. As the sand began sliding down, several kunai hit the dirt, falling next to his feet. He wouldn't waste the time, though, with Sabaku Kyuu or Sabaku Sou Sou.  
  
Instead, a man hit the ground with a low cry, as a spear of sand began receeding from his chest, to come back to the host of the demon Shukaku. His eyes, however, were not shining in a grim excitement.  
  
He smiled to himself. He'd test his worth against the real Naruto. That was the adventure his soul yearned for. Now they shimmered with that grim excitement, his eyes. Uzumaki was capable of changing people. He'd be able to prove whether Gaara was worthy of being a vessel for the fabled tanuki.  
  
His adventure was just beginning; he took another step forward from the border, and began his trek into Konoha. 


	2. Two: Sasuke

STILL don't own Naruto. Doesn't stop you from sending me money. EH, EH? No, you don't pay me to keep writing or for what I've written. You.. uh.. donate money.  
  
...  
  
This time, another short story, focusing around Sasuke. Considering a beta reader. If you're interested, email me. It's on the profile page. Only considering, though.  
  
---  
  
Something else that drives men is vengeance. In that he may find solice, And a way to ease pain.  
  
He will pursue his goals to the very end, Even if they cost him his life. He is willing to sell his soul to the devil, And he will inevitably achieve vengeance.  
  
His life is of no importance; It is this way because he wills it. His path is one of anger and hatred; This is because his victim willed it.  
  
The path of vengeance is, However righteous and hard, Still nothing more than an adventure, And he is nothing more than an avenger.  
  
- Anonymous  
  
---  
  
The swift moving form of one of Konoha's finest ninja darted from tree to tree, his mind currently racing. News of a man who was said to have killed almost his entire clan, leaving only a brother, had been circulating throughout Konoha recently.  
  
In the mind of Uchiha Sasuke, the self-proclaimed heir to the Uchiha bloodline, his arch rival's time was at an end. He knew that he was more powerful than him, and that he wasn't here for him. He could already see the look in that man's cold sharingan. He'd tell him he didn't hate enough, that he didn't wasn't ready yet. Then he'd try to shrug him off. This time, though, he was prepared.  
  
He would use the power Orochimaru had given him. Yes, he was an avenger, and he would achieve power by any means possible, even if it meant such a huge sacrifice on his own part. The curse seal on his neck began tingling, as though it sensed it was going to be in use soon. And it was. He could already feel it sapping his own power, but he pressed onward despite this.  
  
He didn't know exactly why that man was here, nor did he exactly care. He'd overheard that it had something to do with Naruto, something to do with that huge power in the boy he called dobe. Of course, that person wouldn't make it to Naruto. He would take him out with his own two hands before he got to the village of Konoha.  
  
Sasuke stopped on a branch suddenly, his breath catching. His body sagged, and his hands lowered to support him on the branch. In his mind, it was all replaying again. He could remember the walk home after his shuriken practice, remember sliding the door open, remember that sickening feeling when he realized what his fragile mind was seeing.  
  
He was still young. A boy shouldn't be subjected to that. Seeing his parents lying there, on the ground. They were dead. Above them stood a shadowed figure, one with piercing red eyes. To see that man there, he knew what had happened, but he didn't want to believe it.  
  
Choking for air, one hand came up and clawed at his throat. Black swirls were trailing along his body, snaking even to the fingertips of his left hand. He remembered when he had gone to the inn to confront him, and he remembered how he had so easily been defeated. That man thought that Naruto was more important than he was. Dead last in their class, yet he was more important than the avenger that would kill him. It was more than enough to make his blood boil worse than it already was.  
  
Suddenly, he had control again. He snapped his eyes open, revealing the two-wheeled sharingan he possessed. Trails of purple chakra hissed off of his body while he pushed himself to his feet. With every movement, he felt more of that wicked chakra flow through his body. A smirk crossed his lips; his Konoha hitaite fell down, going beyond the range of the human eye to the ground below.  
  
So what if he relied on the devil's power? Power was power, and power was a key to revenge. He didn't have time to wait. His adventure has been going on for years, since the day that man took away everything that he held sacred.  
  
As he began heading for the man's direction again, he knew secretly that today his adventure was going to come to an end. 


End file.
